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I see I left the back porch door ajar.

I's so sorry, y'all.

Ruby is a meddlesome pest. Din't mean to leave ya to her mercy. I thanked her fer holdin' the fort, but reminded her that unlocked door doan mean "play in mah computer." I doan think it'll happen again.

I'se missed gettin' round to all yore blogs and keepin' up wif' yore world. Fergive me.

Granny had a close call wif the Last Dance, but she prevailed --this time.

Her long bout of pneumonia an other complications kept her (an me!) in the hospital fer weeks. Clan wide, thar's been much help, so me an Granny ain't workin' through it alone.

The dear soul cain't go home, has been moved to a "skilled nursin' facility," is limp as a rag doll, is still in peril, an thas' jes' whar we is. Ever day is touch an go, an the docs say be ready fer the the last play of the game.

Granny were a mere girl chile when I'se born. When I wuz a pig-tailed 6 year-old, an' kid sis wuz 5 years old, Mama still liked to roller skate an' make doll clothes. I ain't gonna run on --y'all knows already how hard this is fer any clan. I thought mebbe a couple of observations is worthy of yore readin' time, then I'll let it be.

The Process of Good-Bye: Right now we has her Louisiana kinfolks down heah wif' us'uns....had a big dinner of venison sausage last night, an talked about chile'hoods, old cars, football games a'twixt the Gators an' the Tigers, Lebanese an' Cajun cookin', crazy cuzins. We's goin' through the process of sayin' good bye, only we's doin' it wif' Granny still strong in mind despite her body ebbin' away. An' even if the process takes months an' frazzles yore nerves, it's a blessin'. Yes, it is bittersweet, but to know yore time is hoverin' near, an' be able to still visit wif' loved ones is a singular blessin'. We's thankful.

Circle of Life changes our roles: Foamy is a dear blogger who recently bid farewell to her own Mama...Foamy uploads eloquent photos, saturated wif' meanin'....an I seen on her blog a photo of her mama's hands holdin' another's...an so I'se inspired, an took a photo of my hand on Mama's as she lay within reach of heaven's door. Both our hands is old. It is a meditation fer me-- a visible sign that mah own last dance ain't all that far off, so treasure the time. But it also is me holdin' her hand, the full circle of life, as, fer so many years, it wuz her holdin' mine, to lead, to comfort, to protect...all this I now do fer her, 'cause she showed me how.

Of course, it is fittin' that it is Lent. I love this time of year, the liturgical season that reminds us how frail mortal life is. Cherish the days of life, but take care for the comin' of eternity. A soul prepared for the greater gift that lies ahead is a soul that can be serene in this life despite the storms that toss ya to an' fro, first this way then that.

Long time visitors to the Porches know how Aunty's blog often goes silent durin' Lent. On several planes, this Lent is commandin' my energies like never before. An' how odd to find all y'all travelin' alongside of me..'cause I has wanted to look in on yore blogs, she what shape yore own lives is takin'...but I jes' cain't right now...though I do hold all y'all in my Lenten prayers.

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